


It's 3:30 And

by Pretendthisisfiction (HelloIWriteFanfic)



Category: Daniel Howell - Fandom, Phil Lester - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Angst, Cheating, Drama & Romance, Falling In Love, Heartbreak, M/M, Model Dan Howell, Photographer Phil Lester, Substance Abuse, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 18:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIWriteFanfic/pseuds/Pretendthisisfiction
Summary: All Dan wants anymore is to see and be seen. His world, his job, the man he loves all feel so far away that he can hardly breathe, until he meets someone who shows him the way back.





	It's 3:30 And

**Author's Note:**

> Aye let's do a chaptered fic why not. Twitter is @Wonovono Tumblr is @parttimesiska. Send me prompts?

There’s a tiny gap in the draping that covers the tall walls of the venue, and it reveals a sliver of boring, off-white plaster from behind the gauzy fabric they’d hung up for the party. The fabric is back-lit in some neon pink lights that shine upwards to create these imposing magenta shadows everywhere except for the little gap.

He’s been thinking about maybe hiding there for the remainder of the evening.

He’d have to slip across the room, away from the safety of the table he’s managed to get all to himself. Even alone at the table, he still feels too exposed, somehow. He wants to be shrouded in shitty, rented event draping, he wants to be in the dark, he wants to be home.

He raises his glass of water to his lips and closes his eyes for just a moment. Exhaustion had made its way deep into his bones, but it was only half past two or so, and he knew Ryan would throttle him if he left so early.

“Dan?”

Speak of the devil.

He turns to face his boyfriend as the other man comes behind his chair. Placing his tanned hand onto the shoulder of Dan’s gauzy red jacket as he looks down at Dan with one of his patented exasperated smiles. Dan feels bad, he really does. Ryan has been managing him for over a decade, before Dan had even finished school. He had helped Dan through every kind of trouble in his life and still loved him. It should make him feel worse, to know he makes his partner’s job harder, but he just couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I can’t really decide which option is worse, you not attending events at all, or you insisting on doing _this_ every time.” Ryan started, gesturing broadly towards where Dan was sat as he spoke. His tone wasn’t aggressive, just tired. Ryan was probably more exhausted then Dan was most days.

“Anonymity is attractive. I’d probably get more work if you stopped making me go to these things.” Dan replied tersely, looking up to Ryan with one eyebrow raised in a little dare.

He wished sometimes that Ryan would just snap at him, just once.

“Models don’t get to be anonymous, Daniel. You’re not a painter, there’s plenty of beautiful people who could make themselves much easier to hire.” Ryan sighed then, slipping into the seat next to Dan’s and let his hand slip from Dan’s shoulder to his thigh. “I’m not trying to make your life harder, babe. But this whole attitude you’ve put on...It doesn’t look good, for you or for me.” Ryan’s blue eyes were pleading, and maybe a few years ago Dan would’ve relented, stood up and straightened his jacket to go make the rounds with Ryan by his side, but now all he can concentrate on is how grating Ryan’s voice sounded now. His boyfriend’s American accent has muddled into some kind of American-English hybrid over the decade of living in England. It was...strange and off-putting, Dan hated it.

“Maybe you should do something about it then, yeah?” Dan challenged, staring straight into Ryan’s eyes.

This, this is something he could do. Everything else was so boring, but sex was always the perfect escape, and Ryan always took the bait. Dan reached into Ryan’s space, tracing his fingertips along Ryan’s arm before making a grab at the glass of dark red wine in Ryan’s hand. Ryan pulled away instantly, setting the glass aside and fixing Dan with a proper glare now. Disappointing.

“Seriously? You’re going to do this now?” Ryan hissed quietly, blue eyes glancing around to make sure no one was watching. It wasn’t even a real scene at all, Ryan was just always so dramatic.

“I’m bored, can we please go have sex?” Dan knew he was grinning now as he crowded into Ryan again, his fingers moving to the crisp black collar of Ryan’s shirt. Ryan only ever wore black, never-endingly severe, always clean.

“Daniel, if you don’t stop this I’ll send you back home in a cab right now.” Ryan said, pulling Dan’s hands away and shoving them back into his own lap.

“Please?” Dan replied, laughing dryly before turning away again. He wanted to stare anywhere else now. Ryan _never_ said no to sex, and Dan always _hated_ denial.

“Your mother called, Dan.” Ryan started, slipping Dan’s Iphone from his own jacket pocket before he continued. “That’s why I came over here, I figured if you were so determined to do nothing productive during the evening you may as well call her back. Or is that still off the table too?”

Dan scoffed, still staring ahead as he snatched the slim phone away from Ryan and glanced down at the screen. “Did she not leave a message?” He asked, his own voice softening a little.

“No.” Ryan replied, looking straight at Dan. “You can’t expect people to do everything.”

Dan kept his features steady, not wanting to indicate that Ryan’s comment stung. He hated that Ryan just knew exactly what to say to make Dan feel like shit. Over ten years of dating had given Ryan too much ammo. Sometimes, Dan felt like Ryan knew every single thing about him, but that to Dan, Ryan could sometimes still be a stranger.

“I’ll call her back later.” Dan said quietly, not daring to look at Ryan now. He knew that Ryan’s eyes would be softened into that stupid_ pitying_ look he adopted all the time with Dan anymore.

“Why don’t you want to have sex with me, Ryan?” Dan snapped, feeling safe enough to actually look at Ryan now that he had said something to throw his boyfriend off. He knew he was being awful, and he wasn’t even really angry, but he could make himself angry anyway. Anger was better than vulnerability. Maybe he wished that he had said something else, but sometimes Dan just said things, and even he didn’t know where they came from and then once the words are out, there’s not much to be done.

The sigh that came from Ryan was deep, like even speaking to Dan aged him. “Dan, please”

“Are you fucking somebody again, then?” Dan interrupted and oh, _oh_. They hadn’t not _not_ talked about it before. It had been three years ago, maybe, and since it happened It had come up enough times from Dan, in random insults, or in attempts to use it as a bargaining chip _“Remember when you cheated on me? Give me what I want.”_ It wasn’t an unsaid thing. But every time Dan brought it up it was like taking a hammer to a perfect panel of glass.

Ryan’s reaction was instantaneous, shoulders going rigid and his eyes glazing over. The muscles in his jaw twitched as if it physically pained him to hold back whatever it was that he wanted to say. Dan wanted him to just say it, more than anything, he wanted Ryan to just spit it out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dan.” Ryan said, his voice strung tight like it might break. He stood up before Dan could reply, pushing his chair in and buttoning his jacket back in place.

“There are people here who want to pay you, maybe try and look interested, yeah? Your car will be here in an hour.” Ryan said, turning to leave with Dan still sat at the table.

“Ryan, are you- are you not coming home with me?”

He hated how his voice sounded, hated it, hated it.

“No, Dan.” Ryan let out a tiny laugh and shook his head a little. “Some people have to stay around to make sure you still have a career in the morning.”

He walked away, leaving Dan alone at the table again, feeling a weight in his stomach that hadn’t been there earlier.

“Fuck this.” He muttered under his breath, pushing his chair back and awkwardly stumbling up. He never felt like he knew how to move properly, especially when he felt like this, so strangely detached from everything. So much of the time anymore he just felt as though he was floating.

He felt his heart start to speed up in his chest as he began walking. He didn’t know where Ryan was now, he couldn’t see him, especially as he pushed his way deeper into the party. He never understood why these things insisted on such dark lighting. Wasn’t the whole point so that the guest could be looked at? They were models, after all. But it was dark, and the music that Dan had been ignoring earlier was suddenly the only thing he could hear. Nobody was even properly dancing. It was just a giant throng of well-dressed people all swaying boredly as they half-listened to whatever pitch the designer in front of them was giving.

His mouth was too dry, and he felt an unattractive layer of sweat pin-pricking down his spine as he pushed through the crowd. He needed _out_.

He doesn’t know how he found the exit, but suddenly he’s stumbling out onto the open street and an entirely different onslaught of sound assaults him. City sirens, late night conversation, the steady _chug chug chug_ of London buses. He takes in a deep breath, this, this he can deal with.

A man is walking past him, a camera bag strapped to his shoulder and Dan has to laugh at the irony. _A photographer_. The man looked like Ryan, a little. Icy blue eyes and a shock of black hair. Dan stops him, awkwardly waving a hand into the man’s space.

“Hey, er- do you mind giving me the time?”

The guy startles, blinking at Dan for a second. It’s late, Dan knows that. Far past the appropriate time for strangers to speak to you on the street. But he nods, mumbling a soft “Uh, sure.” before clicking his phone on and glancing down at the illuminated screen.

“It’s three-thirty, mate.” The man said, voice heavy with a distinctly Northern accent. Dan nods, eyes flicking down to the ground a little, unsure as to what to say with the guy still standing there.

“Do you uh, do you not have a phone then? I can call you a Lyft or something if you need.” The guy says, and Dan starts, a little taken aback at the stranger's offer. Kindness from people he didn’t know always affronted him, but then he remembers the man’s camera bag. This guy probably knew exactly who he was and was trying to get a favor out of Dan. Fuck that.

“No thanks, I’ll walk.” Dan shrugs, already turning away from the man and starting down the street. He turned back after a few long strides, half expecting the man to still be standing there, taking a picture or something like everyone always does, but the man was already a ways away, seeming back in his own world again.

The man had done more than just give Dan the time though. He had reminded Dan that Ryan had Dan’s phone with him back inside the party. Dan glanced back towards the venue. Technically, he could walk back in, he could slide against Ryan’s tall form and smile happily and make conversation, he could get his phone back and call his mum.

Dan knew he wouldn’t though.

At least he knows the time now.

It’s 3:30 and he hasn’t got a phone.

It’s 3:30 and he isn’t sure exactly where he is.

It’s 3:30 and the weight in his stomach feels like lead now.

He misses so much these days. It feels like yearning is more familiar than his own reflection. For what exactly, he’s not sure. Maybe for a time before he felt so hopelessly unseen, but it’s not as if he can even remember that time all too well.

It’s 3:30, and Dan starts walking.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers, let me know what you think?


End file.
